


more than anything

by maridoll



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, adding chars as they appear, is this a spade pirates au??, mayyyybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-29 14:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16266458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maridoll/pseuds/maridoll
Summary: this is supposed to make everything less of a nightmare and more of a reality.but it’s still writing letters to a dead person.





	1. Chapter 1

this is supposed to make everything less of a nightmare and more of a reality.

but it’s still writing letters to a dead person.

and i don’t know how i’m supposed to do this. try? sure. i’m trying. i am.

it’s tough to move on.

i just keep picturing it. and seeing your picture in the paper. and thinking that you’re not meant to be chained, ace. you were never destined to be some pawn, you shouldn’t have had to sacrifice yourself. that children shouldn’t be considered as just extensions of their parents.

i can see the fire in your eyes. your determination. when did you set sail? when did you decide to leave your life in the hands of fate?

i wish i was there. badly. desperately. what would have changed? would anything remain the same?

if i had been there, would you still have given up?

i miss you. now that i remember goa, and what we were, what we had. how could i have lived up to this point without you?

and i wish, more than anything, that i had a chance to see you again. i wish i was there, in all the instances you enjoyed life, that you grew closer to accomplishing your goals. 

this is supposed to help me box everything up, put it away. instead i’m writing what-if scenarios. sad, huh.

i’m vying for another reality, instead of accepting the current one.

if i could go back, i would do anything to see you again. i would write that book on your ship, if you wanted.

i miss you. more than that, i

 

The pen drops from his trembling fingers, rolls across the wood, falls to the floor. He couldn’t do this anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a side project i'm having between two bb projects oh boy. this won't be too terribly long, but the chapters after this one are actual chapters instead of letters. so more along the lines of 4-5k updates instead of <500 words.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is. hm. this is something.

“If you get yourselves lost, I’ll tell Garp to kick your ass!”

 

From Dadan’s side, Luffy laughs, frenzied waving paused as the words process. “Lost? There’s no way.”

 

“Yeah, old hag. Not with Sabo around!” Ace punctuates the words by stepping towards the back of the small boat, throwing an arm around Sabo’s shoulders. “Why don’t you tell us bye and wish us luck like a normal person, eh?”

 

Sabo shrugs the arm off, shaking with muffled laughter, and stands up straight. “Dadan? Normal? Yeah right.” He offers her a little wave. “We’ll be fine. See ya!”

 

“I sure hope not!” she calls down the cliffside. And there’s a hidden connotation to her words that makes them both smile.  _ Not anytime soon, _ she meant. 

 

“Well I do!” Luffy’s cheeks puff as he pouts. “I can’t believe you won’t take me with you. I better see you both as soon as I set out!”

 

“Like we could afford to feed your endless stomach,” Ace scoffs. Sabo snorts and punches him in the shoulder. 

 

“You’re one to talk.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Alright squirts, get going! Before Garp calls and I have to tell him you’ve set sail.”

 

They offer Dadan and Luffy and all the bandits gathered at the edge of the island one final wave before pushing the boat out of the shallows, letting the wind gather in the sail. Sabo reaches for the map he’d laid down with a stone on top to keep the wind from catching it. It’d been hard work to scavenge for a map of their piece of East Blue, and would be well worth it. 

 

He settles down and Ace wanders over to peer over his shoulder. 

 

“Which one is the treasure island?”

 

“Sixis,” Sabo tells him, pointing to a smaller dot. “We’re on course for now, I’ll let you know if something changes.” He turns as Ace grows silent to see grey eyes locked on him. Sabo blinks.

 

Ace takes another moment to stare before smiling and straightening out. “Right.” He directs his gaze to the horizon, moving to stand more at the bow. Sabo folds the map and leans back, his own smile playing at his lips.

 

Suddenly Ace turns back, face glowing. “Sabo!” he calls. “I’m glad you’re my navigator. I’m glad we’re doing this together!”

 

Everything feels worth it, just to hear those words. The papercuts common from leafing through pages too quickly, time spent more in the treefort as he studied, a stack of books he’d managed to smuggle aboard to his left, the sense of direction he now has, even out here on the ocean, Dawn Island quickly fading from view. 

 

“Yeah,” he responds, voice clear. “Me too.”

 

\--

 

_ At any rate, it shouldn’t be much longer now. Once we hit Sixis, that’s where everything starts. _

 

Sabo leans back and closes the book up, taking a moment to relax his hands before wrapping the string around the cover and securing it with a knot. Something pecks his forehead and he screws up his eyes, caught off guard. When he plucks the offending item off his chest, he sees it’s a stem, probably off the apple Ace had been eating.

 

When he looks up to see Ace staring back at him, still chewing on the last bite of the core, it pretty much confirms it. Any doubt leaves him when Ace shrugs. “What, can’t eat that.”

 

He scoffs and tosses it overboard. 

 

“Anyway, I think we’re getting pretty close.” Ace gestures around them. “The air is getting drier. You said it was a desert island, right?”

 

“Yeah.” He tips forward to look at the horizon, but all he could see was the same as always: blue sea. Ace was right, though. It was subtle, but the humidity was lessening. The sails seemed fine, and when he dipped his fingers in the water, the current-

 

No. He pauses, leaning further over and submerging his wrist. The current had changed. It was tugging them forward, now.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

With Ace’s words Sabo jumps out of his mind, shaking his hand off. “Nah. We’re good.”

 

It’s a few hours later that Sabo regrets those words.

 

Underneath, the boat jerks. It’s enough to startle Sabo to wake, and one of his limbs knocks into Ace, who groans into response but ultimately remains asleep. He looks up to see the sail calm, so the wind wasn’t the reason their boat was currently tipping.

 

He scrambles to the edge and looks over, and his breath catches as he can physically see the current rocking them forward. Sabo looks ahead and makes out the form he assumes is their destination. His foot jerks out and kicks Ace, who falls from his perch and growls in response, eyes opening. 

 

“ _ What _ Sabo-” He stops when the blonde tips his head forward, and moves to look in that direction. 

 

“Is that it?”

 

Sabo can’t share his excitement. “I assume. The waters are weird, though.” He casts another glance at the waves. “We’re being pulled in.”

 

Ace looks back at him. “Is that bad?”

 

“It’s unusual. Especially this far out, and this strong.” He crosses his arms, shrugs. “Something jerked our nose earlier, too.”

 

“Like a fish?”

 

“Doubt it. Something with the water, though I didn’t get a chance to see. Let’s just . . keep watching it. If it gets stronger, it’ll be a problem.” Ace deadpans, his confusion and annoyance put on display, and Sabo takes a moment to let out a breath. “We don’t have a motor, so if the current pulls to the shore, it’ll be difficult to set sail again.”

 

That seems to satisfy Ace, but he doesn’t appear the least bit concerned. Fine. That was Sabo’s job.

 

He makes them switch positions so he can have a better view of what was ahead. Ace attempts to go back to sleep, but Sabo doesn’t let much time pass before he’s addressing him again, a frown playing on his lips.

 

“Hey, how important is it we go to this island?”

 

“Hm?” Ace throws his arms back and sighs, slouching further to a horizontal position. “Well we’ve come this far out of the way, why not see it through. Didn’t detour from Loguetown just to give up-”

 

“I think we should.” A beat of silence follows. “Quit. I don’t like this anymore.”

 

The boat sways as Ace stands, and though Sabo isn’t facing him, he can feel the approach. It doesn’t startle him when a hand settles on his shoulder, and Ace ducks to rest a knee on the same bench Sabo sat on.

 

“Why.”

 

In answer, the boat jerks again underneath, making them both stumble. Sabo recovers first.

 

“I don’t like these currents. I just have a bad feeling.”

 

“But what about the treasure?”

 

“The rumored treasure?”

 

“C’mon, Sab, you were the one that brought it up.”

 

“Look, Ace!” He pans out his arm before them. “We’re being pulled in, this isn’t  _ right _ .”

 

“And you don’t think we can handle it?”

 

“I don’t think we’ll get out of it!”

 

Ace stumbles on his next reply. Before he can get the words out, Sabo’s jerked over to the side of the boat, hitting the wood hard. “Ace!”

 

“I don’t-” 

 

Their vessel spins, almost one full rotation, the nose not quite making it back straight ahead of them. They both eye each other and Sabo looks past, at the water that gets more choppy by the second, and purses his lips. “Last chance. We almost don’t have a choice anymore.”

 

“Let’s do it. We’ll figure something out.” He grins. “Let’s go see Sixis.”

 

Several things happen in startling succession after that. 

 

For one, Sabo immediately reaches for his bag and jerks it to his person, sliding the bound journal inside.

 

Ace stands and the wind picks up and the current  _ rockets _ them forward enough to where he nearly tips off the front of their boat, breath caught as he stiffly leans back in.

 

Sabo reaches for another object resting on the flooring to stuff in the pack only to end up sprawled on top of it, another current catching them and turning the boat sideways to drift.

 

Sabo jerks his head up and eyes the water Ace can only stare at with trepidation. “This was a bad fucking idea,” he growls. 

 

Ace says something that escapes him, words lost in the sound of the sail rippling. Another wave rocks them and water sloshes into Sabo’s face, making him sputter.

 

He sits up and works on securing the bag, not risking letting what was already inside get wet, concentrated on the task with and endless stream of  _ no no no no no _ echoing over and over. It’s not until he’s jerked up that he bothers to look at the sea again.

 

Not only are they being pulled into the island’s current, but there are several diagonal cuts that Sabo immediately recognizes as forming whirlpools coming sharply into view.

 

And now he knows why the island wasn’t populated.

 

“I told you!” he spits at Ace.

 

“It’s a little rough, we’ll be fine. Quit worrying,” he counters, grey eyes blazing. 

 

“We can’t control our direction anymore, dumbass! What-” Another wave hits the side heavy and spatters water into their forms, cutting off Sabo’s words. 

 

“What the fuck is that.”

 

Sabo could answer that too. The dip in the waves, the spinning track their boat was on now increased with the rough current pulling them forward, and the way a couple of the whirlpools on the outer edges were already being sucked in were all signs. He’d read about them briefly, but he never imagined they’d ever really encounter one. Certainly not in the East Blue, and so soon at that.

 

“A maelstrom,” he mumbles, frozen. 

 

The desert island of Sixis was located in another corner of their Blue, an area that if explored, remained vastly undocumented. He could now see why. The entire coastal circumference maybe spanned twelve kilometers, and from what he could make out, was guarded entirely by a horde of maelstroms, all wrapped around and banded together by a straight current that sucked in everything to the shoreline.

 

Ace asks how they get out of it and Sabo nearly loses it.

 

“We don’t!” He tugs the bag closer, starts loosening the opening. There had to be more they could stuff inside. “You fucked up Ace, we made a mistake.” He reaches for one of his books and Ace grabs his hand, holding it until he looks up into storming eyes.

 

“I believed we could get through it,” he snarls. “You’re the one giving up! There has to be-”

 

“If we both make it to shore, I’m kicking your ass,” he bites out, ripping his hand out of the grip. “This is  _ your _ fault-”

 

“Well I’m not the one-”

 

“ _ No _ -”

 

“Sabo-”

 

And then they’re both cut off as the boat nearly capsizes, tipping and coating the bottom in water, leaving them both gasping. And then too fast they’re being sucked into one of the smaller whirlpools and pulled and Sabo grips the bag just before he gets a mouthful of water.

 

After that, it’s hard to say exactly what happened.

 

\--

 

When his eyes open the first thing he acknowledges was that there was no sand clogging his throat, but it  _ burned _ anyway.

 

His eyes stung. Everything was white. His limbs ached, sore probably from being tugged around. He was breathing, so at least he wasn’t dead. Survived somehow, then.

 

He tips his head down as noise catches his attention, and finds his lower legs wet from the incoming tide. How long it had been like that he couldn’t say, but it was obviously brighter than it had been before, and the rest of him was wet.

 

Sabo uses all his strength to tug himself into a sitting position, legs sprawled out under him and pulled out of reach of the waves. Although it pains him, he looks to the sea. 

 

The current was obvious, but the lack of maelstroms caught his immediate attention. Guess they only formed at certain times of the day, which made sense. There were still some whirlpools he could make out, so it was definitely not a calm time. If there ever was. He honestly couldn’t see it happening, all the currents too rough and strange for a moment of pause. Maybe the sea floor was ragged. Maybe it was the island.

 

His fingers brush against something and he turns the other direction to find his haphazardly-packed bag sprawled out in the sand beside him. It definitely was roughed up, but the top was still somewhat sealed, which gave him hope. His fingers ached but he pushed through the pain, untying and yanking open the bag. 

 

Inside sat the lined book he’d picked up specifically for their setting sail. It was waterlogged. He grabs for it, flipping through the couple pages of notes to find the scribbled writing still barely legible, not completely wiped by the waves. That was fine. He could re-do it. He grasps the book by the spine and shuffles the pages, watching in disdain at water dribbles out onto the sand.

 

He could air it out. It was hot enough -and dry enough, wow, he hadn’t noticed that until now.

 

The sand was white around him, an anomaly he’s never before seen and not sure he wanted to continue seeing. It was almost like looking out at a snowbank. Too bright.

 

He sighs and sets the book down in the sand, opening it and relying on the weight of the water to keep it that way. With any luck, the heat of the sand underneath would help dry the outside.

 

A small noise foreign to the waves and his own slow movements makes him glance over his shoulder. Further down the coast, he recognized a figure as Ace getting to his knees. He watches as, panicked, Ace rises to his feet, spins around, and slumps his shoulders when he catches sight of Sabo. He comes closer, a bit rushed, and Sabo lets his gaze wander to the waves again. No sign of any of their other luggage having been swept to the banks. He didn’t really expect it, not with the rapid swirling happening beneath the surface.

 

Ace is panting by the time he reaches Sabo, dropping down next to him and placing hands on both his shoulders. He looks up to see Ace inspecting him, eyes raking down his form.

 

“Sabo,” he rasps, voice nearly gone. “Are you okay?”

 

His breath catches at the words, but instead of replying, he purses his lips together and gestures to the sea. They look out at it for a moment. Not even driftwood can be seen. 

 

“Our boat’s gone,” he says instead, scratchy words not much better than Ace’s. His poor throat was fucked. “Highly doubt it’s intact anymore, but even if that were the case, it would be trapped under the currents.” He lets the words settle, the meaning catch. They were now without transport. Without supplies. Probably without fresh water, given the nature of the island, but he’d be damned if he didn’t search to confirm that before making the assumption. 

 

“That’s-” Ace cuts himself off, swallows dry. “We’ll figure something out.”

 

Sabo jerks out of his hold, stumbles to his feet. His shirt sticks to his skin, making it itch, so he tugs it off, tosses it to the sand beside his waterlogged journal. That was all they had. 

 

“Whatever,” he mumbles. He wasn’t ready to argue, but he couldn’t be around Ace right now.

 

Before he can move away, Ace grabs for his hand. He’s still on his knees, looking up at Sabo and squinting because of the sun above them. Sabo can’t help the words from coming out.

 

“If you can’t trust me as your navigator, then what am I even doing here?”

 

Ace’s hand slips from his own. Sabo takes another moment to stare down before moving inland.

 

“I’m going to take a look around. Be back later.”

 

He doesn’t get a reply.

 

\--

 

When he makes his way back, the sun is setting.

 

Ace has moved their measly collection of items a far distance from where they had once been, mainly because they would be submerged in water otherwise. He had to pause to eye how far the tide had come inland. That was . . interesting.

 

His shirt sat devoid of sand atop the bag. Considering he had already passed the point of pink skin, he was grateful. It had been a mistake to leave without it, discomfort or not. Sabo reaches for it and shakes it briefly before tugging it back on. The motion catches Ace’s attention from a few feet away, jerking him out of his contemplating state. He catches Sabo’s eye and immediately the sound of a growling stomach fills the silence.

 

Sabo almost laughs, just managing to hold it in. He shakes his head and comes closer, settling down with his knees to his chest beside the other. Ace sighs softly, but doesn’t protest.

 

They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to, right at that moment. Maybe because both were still coming to terms with everything. Perhaps it was that the tension was high, and any misstep would leave disastrous results.

 

Or, just possibly, no words were needed. It was made up for in the proximity, how near they were to each other. 

 

They didn’t talk, but in the morning, Sabo wakes slumped against Ace’s side just like any other day.

 

\--

 

Ace doesn’t get much further exploring the island on the second day than Sabo had on the first.

 

He’s tired, his lack of energy apparent in how little he can go before he has to break, sitting in the hot sand for longer intervals than he’s traversing it.

 

There’s not much to see.

 

There was some growth, but it was limited to crackly underbrush and plant life that looked more dead than alive. Everything was so dry, so he supposed there wasn’t much moisture at all to support any kind of life. There was no evidence of animals, even things like crabs and starfish and normal beach life absent. Further inland, there was no sign of life -prey or predator- to be found.

 

No water. Not even anything to squeeze liquid out of.

 

He makes his way back as the sun is setting lower in the sky, just enough for everything to be dyed golden. It would be a while yet until it really set, and hues of orange and red took over.

 

He’d left before Sabo had woken, lowering his body to the sand and pillowing his head with their one bag. There was a lot he needed to think about. Some part of him hopes Sabo had wandered off as well, but when he marches through the last of the growth, there he is, standing ankle-deep in the high tide. 

 

Ace watches for a moment as Sabo stares out at the water, examining it for the whirlpools that formed at certain times -what they were Ace would never be able to tell, it wasn’t his area of expertise. He doesn’t realize he’s joining him until his socks are off, tossed on top of his boots, and the white sand bunches between his toes, damp and then wet as the water submerges it. 

 

Sabo glances over as Ace comes to a stop beside him, but it’s brief and entirely without comment. They hadn’t spoken at all since his scathing final remark the other day. Though he still felt like a pit had formed in his stomach, he knew how stubborn the blond could be about these things. Not to mention, in the end, he was the one that had screwed up. Taking the first step was the least he could do.

 

“It’s so hot,” he mumbles. Then, louder, “Do you think it’s fine if I get my face wet?” He gestures to the water. “With this?”

 

Sabo shrugs. “Go for it.”

 

Fair enough. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. Ace resists the sigh on the edge of his lips and drops into a crouch, letting his cupped hands gather enough water before splashing it on his skin. It felt heavenly, after walking through the heat all day. He does it a couple more times and then, for the heck of it, spills some over his hair and shakes his head, letting the strands get wet without them dripping all over his shirt. 

 

“I fucked up,” he says suddenly, and now he can feel Sabo’s eyes on him. “You were right. And I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened. You-” He breaks off, then looks up into Sabo’s face. “You’re the navigator.  _ My _ navigator. It wasn’t my place to write you off. I’m sorry.”

 

They stare at each other for a few tense moments, and then Sabo calmly picks up one of his bare feet and before Ace can react, presses it against his chest and pushes him down.

 

The water isn’t high enough to cover his face, but he sputters anyway, flailing his limbs. Sabo laughs at him from above, raised foot still dripping, and Ace sits up with a huff.

 

“I guess I deserve that.”

 

“You’re pretty stupid,” is Sabo’s answer. “Did you find anything today?”

 

He shakes his head, then starfishes his limbs, going limp and breathing out a long sigh. “Ahh, this feels so good.”

 

“Don’t fall asleep.” A foot nudges one of his legs. “The currents are getting rough. Not safe.”

 

Right right. They were still standing in the danger zone, and on the coast of a seemingly-deserted island, nonetheless. Ace makes quick work into hopping to his feet, already wringing out his clothes. 

 

Later into the night, when the sun had set, he realizes Sabo still hadn’t accepted his apology, and offers another.

 

“I wouldn’t be able to do this without you, y’know,” he admits quietly.

 

It takes a minute, but Sabo replies. “I should’ve expected your stubbornness. Just . . remember that. What you’ve said.”

 

And at the end, maybe things had smoothed over. But they were still stuck on Sixis, without a boat, without much hope of leaving even if they built a raft, with the currents and all.

 

\--

 

Since they were stuck there, it was a worthwhile idea to try and find the treasure rumored to reside on the island. The minimal supplies they had got moved around the shore as they worked exploring inland more and more each time, working into a circle around the island. Sabo had left a few sticks stuck in the sand where the high tide couldn’t reach, so they would know their starting point.

 

The island certainly did not boast much. Any efforts to find edible things or any sort of liquid were in vain. 

 

All the pages in Sabo’s journal were wrinkled from once being waterlogged. The cover was bumpy. The spine was worse for wear. Was it intact? Yes. Was that all that mattered?

 

Yes.

 

He lacked a writing tool, but there were also more important things to be worrying over than logging their seafaring adventure. Currently. Because eventually, he would add all that had happened.

 

Their progress revealed the strong inward current indeed ran the full circle of the island -at least, what they had seen of. There were areas where the developing maelstroms were further out, but overall, during certain times of the day there would always be whirlpools somewhere between the island and where the current began out at sea. 

 

It was too dangerous to swim out, even when the water was calm, because the same current kept propelling everything towards the shore. At some point they encountered mounds of seaweed, unluckily for them there wasn’t anything to wash the saltwater off with, and the smell itself suggested rot had already taken root. They’d had to abandon it.

 

As much as the lack of, well, anything worthwhile on the island surprised them, it was noteworthy that they also hadn’t found any clues to the so-called treasure Sixis was supposed to house. Not that it was supposed to be easy, but Sabo wasn’t about to go wasting energy digging random holes. And with what? His hands? A stick?

 

Part of him wondered if the rumors were meant to draw in adventurers no one liked, so that they wound up stuck here. The thought made him shudder. Hopefully no bones were lying around. Though, now that he thought about it, it would make for a better digging tool than brittle sticks.

 

As Sabo’s thinking this, the small stick he’d been using to scribble into the sand snaps. He huffs and tosses it aside. Hopefully Ace was having more progress.

 

\--

 

On the sixth day, Ace strikes gold.

 

Not literally, that would be way too convenient. And nice. Well, not nice with their current situation, since gold wouldn’t help them out any with surviving or escaping, but in the long run, yeah, nice.

 

Instead he spots a person.

 

Undeniably, they are also stranded. Ace can’t make out their face well, with a mask obscuring it, but they definitely look worse for wear. Still, with all the variables to account for, this could be a victory. This person could have a boat, or water, or literally anything to offer. That also made approaching them a bit of a challenge. Depending on how long they’d been here, they would be skittish. And if they had anything of value, a stranger appearing would perhaps be more threatening.

 

It’s not until the person is lying against a sand dune that he sees his chance. On the other side, facing the shore, the person begins mumbling to a skeleton Ace can barely make out that sits against the dune several meters away. 

 

Okay, yep, the skeleton was new. That was scary.

 

Ace slips off his shoes to avoid making much noise and pads over to where the skeleton rests, settling up with his back to the dune on the opposite side. 

 

“At least I won’t have to worry about the Marines finding me out here.”

 

“My gramps is a marine,” Ace chimes in, face tipped to where the man sat on the opposite side, hoping his voice carried enough to be heard from this distance. “He’s pretty wild, though, so I get it.”

 

“Right? All marines can be scary. And I didn’t even set out to sea to become a wanted man. I just wanted to write an adventure essay, free of restrictions.”

 

“Oh yeah? That sounds like Sabo.” He pauses. “Actually, Sabo’s more about logging our journey, but it’s kinda the same.”

 

“No, that’s completely different. What I-” And then he stops, as if just realizing the skeleton he’d initiated a conversation with had responded. There’s a scramble, a noise of shifting sands, and Ace tips his head up just in time to see the man’s face come into view as he peers over the side of the dune.

 

He breaks the silence first, the smile from when he’d initially caught sight of the man still on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Oh thank God,” the man mutters, straightening out to his full height. Unfortunately this means the sand dune covers more of his form, so Ace gingerly rises to his feet as well so they’re standing opposite. “I thought I was done for. Three days out here saps your hope pretty quickly. You’ve come to rescue me, yes?”

 

Hm. That was a problem. Ace still keeps the smile, despite his next words. “Actually I’ve been here twice as long now.” Yep, there it was. The relief instantly evaporates from the man’s expression. He thinks quickly, an idea that Sabo had denied every time springing to his mind. “Why don’t we build a raft together?”

 

\--

 

Turns out mystery man had also come to Sixis seeking the treasure it supposedly held. He hadn’t found it yet, but he did have something else of value -a knife. With it, after gathering some of the brittle sticks, Sabo is able to light a small fire that they gather around as the sun sinks lower and the tide rises higher.

 

“Masked Deuce,” Sabo deadpans, after Ace introduces his newest companion.

 

He waves off the comment pretty quickly. “The naming story’s not worth telling, just go with it.”

 

So. He went with it.

 

Their new stranger-friend (friend, Ace insisted, but really?) was apparently a former medical student, but because his grades were bad, Sabo quickly lost hope of him having any useful information. His parents were indifferent to him, but he mentioned the mask was to hide his face from Marines, so surely there were strings attached with running away.

 

He was out at sea just to enjoy an adventure, as a free man.

 

Sabo could respect that.

 

Ace ends up talking family too, hyping up Luffy to an extent that isn’t necessary, and going on and on about their relationship as brothers. At Masked Deuce’s confused expression, Sabo chimes in to say the two weren’t blood brothers, which explained how different they looked. Ace quickly counters saying that didn’t matter, and their new friend (and okay, maybe he’s growing on Sabo too) chuckles in response.

 

Ace touches on the Marines again by talking about Garp, and they venture into topics about the Marine hero wanting to press them to join the navy, which leads into any parent’s unrealistic expectations. Sabo tunes this out a bit to think if Garp had found out they had left the island yet. In any event, they probably wouldn’t have to worry about encountering him in East Blue. He hadn’t come around as often in the past couple years, and it was never for longer than a day before he had to return to Marine HQ. There was no chance of him lingering in East waters, so they were home free from him until they hit the Grand Line.

 

When he tunes back into the conversation he regrets not being able to stop where it was headed.

 

“I can’t imagine the child of the Pirate King would be too happy either,” Masked Deuce says, and Ace’s smile immediately disappears.

 

Sabo tenses, shoulders bunching up slightly, and watches as Ace becomes sullen. Across from them, their new friend also catches notice, how brow pinching. Then he turns to observe Sabo’s reaction, and a strange light appears in his eyes.

 

He stumbles to his feet, backing away from them, and pauses only as they both look up.

 

“Don’t talk to me again,” he mutters, and then turns his back and hastily retreats further inland, out of sight fairly quickly.

 

While Sabo snarls at his retreating form, Ace grasps his hair in his hands, dropping his face to gaze at the sand. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

 

“What?” Sabo turns to look at him, coming closer to his hunched form. “What part of this is possibly your fault?”

 

“It’s because I’m his son. Nothing good will ever come from that connection.”

 

He grasps at Ace’s fingers, uncurling them from the dark strands. “Hey. Hey, look at me. There you go. This isn’t your fault. Nothing that comes from your relationship with Roger will ever be your fault.” But it’s not working, it’s never worked, and as Ace’s face screws up more into remorse, he knows that, like always, the only way to fix this is with a distraction.

 

Sabo mentally sighs and prepares for extraneous amounts of effort that will ultimately go to nothing. Then, he tells Ace, “Let’s build a raft.”

 

\--

 

Raft Building turns out to be the pointless endeavor Sabo always suspected it would.

 

They somehow make them. One doesn’t make it out of the shallows before breaking under the pressure. Another they push out far enough only for whirlpools to start their forming, and it quickly spirals and disappears beneath the waves.

 

A few days pass, and at this point they’ve made their way back to their starting point, the sticks still standing tall in the sand. Since they seem untouched by the water, they set their stuff behind them, splaying down in the hot sand after a long day of achieving ultimately nothing.

 

Ace is no longer smiling. He’d told Sabo earlier that they absolutely couldn’t die here. No response had been given.

 

The sun sets and they huddle together, throats cracked and spirits dampened.

 

“Tomorrow,” Sabo says, “We’ll check the center of the island.”

 

The next day, when there’s enough light to move, they split up and opt to meet back in a few hours. This time they both head inland, one last desperate search for anything of worth.

 

That’s when Ace finds it.

 

He doesn’t know how it could possibly have lasted this long, hanging off a dangling branch of a downturned tree, barren otherwise. It’s a fruit that has colors of flames, hot and bright, and as he picks it, he can feel the weight settling in his hands.

 

He swallows, eyeing it carefully and slowly turning it over. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

 

There was still plenty of time until he was due back, but Ace sets off for the coast anyway, resolved to wait for Sabo.

 

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he sits in the sand, letting the waves wash over his bare feet, and marvels at the strange fruit. When he hears a stomach grumbling, he assumes it’s Sabo and hops up, giddy at his find.

 

Facing him instead was his wayward friend.

 

Ace blinks, then eyes the hefty branch in the other’s hands and comes to a swift conclusion. “Ah! You’re finally ready to build the boat!” He nods, proud of himself for the deduction, then holds out his hands. “Here. If you help, then I’ll give this to you.”

 

Masked Deuce lowers his hands, not yet letting the stick fall. The response -though a bit oblivious- is a complete shock. He immediately shakes his head. “No, no, I shouldn’t.” At Ace’s tepid expression, he sighs and frees his hands, stepping forward.

 

“You’re a good person, Ace,” he tells him. “I can’t accept it, but how about we share the fruit instead?”

 

“That’s perfect!” Ace makes quick work in sitting down again, doing his best to split the fruit evenly. He tears his own in half again and sets it aside for Sabo, when he came back. Then he hands Masked Deuce his own piece. They’re both smiling now.

 

The orange fruit is single-handedly the most disgusting thing Ace has ever consumed. He’s so hungry that it doesn’t matter. Suddenly he’s glad that he set Sabo’s piece away, or it would’ve been gone. When he looks back at his companion, who’s also finishing his portion, he finds quite a comical expression.

 

“Ace,” Masked Deuce chokes out. “You’re on fire.”

 

He sits there for a moment, frozen, and then sees flickering out of the corner of his eye. Ace turns his head to the side to see his arm on fire and immediately yells out, flapping it in the air, and then Masked Deuce is yelling, and the fire dies out only to spring up bigger across Ace’s opposite shoulder, and they finally both collapse into the shallows, Ace rolling around and Masked Deuce pouring on water to any areas that go ablaze.

 

It doesn’t take long for Ace to tire out, sagging into the water and panting heavily. Masked Deuce still hovers above him, watching for any more flames should they appear.

 

That’s how Sabo finds them. Ace knows because when he turns to ask a question, Masked Deuce is slammed to the side with his discarded stick, and Sabo’s raggedy hair appears in his place. Ace chokes in both astonishment and amusement, and Sabo helps him up. Once he’s no longer lying in the water, Ace feels a bit of his energy come back.

 

“Wait,” he says, blocking Sabo from stepping forward. “Sorry!” He calls to Masked Deuce, who’s stumbling to his feet as well, rubbing a hand to a forming bruise. “I lit on fire, somehow,” he explains to Sabo. “And we were trying to put it out. He was helping.” Then he perks up. “Oh! I found a fruit! I saved you a piece, here, it’s over here.” He doesn’t get to drag Sabo very far before the other is sputtering.

 

“On fire? Wha-? How does that happen? How do you-”

 

When Ace hands Sabo his portion of the fruit, the back of his hand is ablaze. Sabo can only stare.

 

\--

 

The devil fruit Ace ate allowed his entire body to become fire. Least to say, it was pretty useful.

 

With Deuce’s thinking, the three build a small boat with a propulsion system. It runs on Ace’s fire, basically. He does a solo test at the beginning of low tide, when the maelstrom hasn’t yet formed, and when it succeeds, they opt to climb aboard and set out before the sea becomes rough instead of celebrating then and there.

 

“I guess there wasn’t any treasure on the island after all,” Deuce says, hunkered down in the front half.

 

Ace lets a little smile form on his face. He’s centered at the back, letting his flames turn plates inside the boat and propel them forward, slipping through the currents with ease. “Dunno about that.”

 

Sabo points west from his position spread out sideways in the middle, head and legs dangling off the sides -it really wasn’t a big ship, but there was only so much they had to work with. “Head that way. There’s a string of islands we can stop at not too far from here.

 

Ace nods, gearing them in that direction, and then frowns. “Aw, man! I lost my bag when we crashed!”

 

Sabo huffs. They’d lost a lot more than that, but. “It was hideous anyway,” he offhandedly says. Ace gasps in betrayal and reaches out to poke Sabo with his foot. 

 

“How mean! I liked that bag. At least you came out with your book. I’ve got nothing!”

 

Across from him, Deuce chuckles. He reaches behind and pulls out the knife they first used to start the fire, and then holds it out. “Take this, then. A gift from me to you.”

 

Ace sits there for a bit, staring from the hilt back to Deuce, unsure. Then, with a smile, reaches out and takes it. “You’ll come with us, right?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Deuce smiles as well. “I have a feeling I’ll be able to write a great essay with you around.”


End file.
